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d-z20 · 2 months ago

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Neighbourly Care part 3 (NSFW)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: You go home for Thanksgiving and who else joins your family but none other than their wonderful neighbours Agatha and Rio

-OR-

You struggle to make it through the meal and so does Agatha, but she "accidentally" spills her drink which means you fuck in the bathroom :)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, top Agatha, top Rio, fingering, oral, mention of humiliation kink

Words: 3.5k

A/N: THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE AND KUDOS!!! to celebrate here is a bonus seasonal chapter :D Happy Thanksgiving to those that celebrate, and to those who don't: enjoy the chapter anyway ;)

AO3 | Part 1 | 2 | 4 | 5 | 6 | Masterlist

A Thanksgiving To Remember

As the morning light filters through the blinds, the hotel room is dim and quiet. You wake up slowly, feeling warm and content, your body still tingling from last night. You shift slightly, realising that Rio is already awake. She’s sprawled comfortably on her side, her head resting on the pillow, her hand absently stroking your arm. Her eyes flicker open as she senses you waking, and she smiles at you lazily.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Rio hums, stretching and running a hand through her hair. “How are you feeling?”

“Good thanks, how about you?" You smile, feeling the pull of her easy, bright energy. Was she always so upbeat in the mornings?

“I’m great. But she,” Rio gestures toward Agatha with a playful smirk, “isn’t a morning person.”

Behind you, Agatha just grumbles in response, muffling her face into the pillow and pulling you closer into her. Rio leans over, a mischievous grin on her face as she brushes Agatha’s hair from her face. “C’mon, darling, I’ll make you coffee,” she offers sweetly, but you can hear the hint of a challenge in her tone.

Agatha groans again but finally starts to sit up, stretching with an audible crack in her spine. “Fine, fine,” Agatha mutters. “But it better be good, or I’ll go back to sleep.”

Rio laughs and gets up to make coffee, leaving Agatha to rub her eyes before looking at you. You share a quiet moment, the lingering energy from the night before making the air between you feel heavy with unspoken thoughts.

As Rio busies herself in the kitchenette in the corner of the room, Agatha grabs her phone and starts swiping through it. Not wanting to bother her, you reach for your phone too. You’re happily scrolling when a notification pops up

MILF 1 has added you to the group chat.

MILF 1 named the group chat Check-In Group

MILF 1: There. You can’t ignore us now, sweetheart.

You’re smiling at your phone when you feel Rio standing next to you, coffee in hand

“What are you smiling at? Not another potential date, I hope." She meant it as a tease, but you can hear the hint of jealousy in her voice.

“No,” you chuckle. “In fact, it’s just the opposite; Agatha is making sure that never happens again.” You tilt your phone to show Rio the notifications.

She looks down at your phone, her eyes narrowing slightly at the screen. “Why do you have Agatha saved as MILF 1?” she asks, raising her voice loud enough so Agatha hears.

You laugh nervously and quickly glance at Agatha, who’s sitting up now and lazily sipping her coffee, her attention on the two of you. She raises an eyebrow at you, her eyes glinting with something more than just curiosity.

“Well?” Rio prompts, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

You squirm under their combined gazes, feeling both flustered and slightly turned on. “It’s just the truth,” you admit sheepishly, your voice dropping as you fidget with the comforter. “She is a mom, and, well, I do want to f—” You stop yourself just in time, your cheeks heating as you look anywhere but at them.

Rio raises an eyebrow, a wicked grin curling on her lips. “Oh? And what am I saved as?” she teases, voice low and playful. “Please tell me it’s not just MILF 2.”

Your face goes hot, and you start fiddling with the comforter in your lap. “It might be.”

Rio bursts into laughter. “You really couldn’t think of something more creative?” she asks, shaking her head in mock disapproval.

Agatha’s smile never fades, but her eyes darken, and she stands up, stretching slowly. “Okay, on that note, I’m going to go shower,” she says, cutting through the playful moment. She gives Rio a brief kiss on the cheek before heading toward the bathroom. “You two behave while I’m gone.”

As Agatha disappears into the bathroom, Rio sets her coffee cup on the nightstand and leans closer to you, her expression shifting. There’s an undeniable heat in her eyes as her lips brush against yours in a kiss that’s possessive and urgent. “So you like to fuck us, hmm?” she whispers against your lips, her breath warm as it fans over your skin.

Your breath catches as her words sink in, and your body reacts almost instantly, a tingling warmth pooling low in your belly.

When the bathroom door clicks shut behind Agatha, Rio doesn’t waste a second. She pushes you back against the pillows, her touch both gentle and commanding. The electricity in the air is palpable as her lips find yours again, her kiss deepening with every passing second.

You moan softly when her hand trails down your side, grazing your hip before slipping under your waistband. She pauses just long enough to murmur against your lips, “You’re already so excited for me. Do you like it that much when I humiliate you?” Her tone is teasing, but there’s an edge to it that makes you shiver.

Before you can answer, Rio presses her lips to yours again, cutting off any reply as her hand moves with a confidence that leaves you breathless. Her touch is slow at first, teasing, as though she’s savouring every little sound you make in response. The tension between you builds rapidly, and the air is charged with unspoken need.

Somewhere in the background, you faintly register the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. Rio pulls back just enough to mutter against your lips, her voice low and dripping with desire. “I’ve got about ten minutes until she's done showering.”

Her words send a shiver down your spine, the hunger in her tone unmistakable. You swallow hard, your pulse racing as you meet her gaze. “I don’t think we’ll need that long anyway,” you admit softly, your voice trembling slightly under the weight of her intensity.

Rio smirks, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction at your answer. She wets her fingers with your arousal before burying two of them inside you, igniting a fire in your core that threatens to consume you completely. “So eager for me already,” she murmurs, her voice both teasing and utterly dominating. Her words make your breath hitch, the hint of humiliation in her tone only heightening your anticipation as she begins to fuck you.

There is no slow buildup, and Rio is mercilessly fucking you in seconds, pulling sounds out of you that you didn’t even know you could make; you’re pretty sure that the whole floor can hear you now.

She starts to pump her fingers faster, and you can hear how wet you are. She takes your bottom lip between her teeth and bites down before soothing it with a quick swipe of her tongue. "Shhhhh, baby, try and keep quiet for me; Aggie can’t know what I’m doing.”

The idea that this sex was potentially forbidden pushes you over the edge, and you grip on to her shoulders for dear life as your orgasm comes crashing over you. You pull Rio into a messy kiss to try and dampen your moans as you wind down. She pulls her fingers out, humming with pleasure as she sucks them clean.

“Fucking hell,” you pant.

Rio looks at you with a devilish grin.

The sound of the bathroom door opening jolts you out of the haze. Agatha steps into the room, towel-wrapped and hair damp, her expression calm as she surveys the scene. Rio immediately freezes, her eyes widening slightly like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

But Agatha doesn’t say a word. She simply raises an eyebrow, a ghost of a smirk tugging at her lips, before turning back to the closet to finish getting ready. Her calm, collected demeanour somehow leaves you even more flustered than being caught outright.

The rest of the morning passes in a blur. After Agatha and Rio get you dressed, they drive you back to your college apartment; their voices light and playful. “Remember to actually text us this time,” Rio teases as she pulls up to the curb. “We’re not just for weekends, you know.”

“Yeah, text us, sweetheart,” Agatha adds with a soft smile. “We like hearing from you.”

“I will,” you promise, glancing at your phone, already thinking of what you were going to text them.

—

Later that evening, you’re mindlessly scrolling on your phone when you notice a new notification in your group chat with Agatha and Rio.

Check-In Group

MILF 2 changed the name to MILFs Anonymous

MILF 1: Rio!

MILF 2: Come on, just let me have this one thing :(

MILF 1: Fine, but Y/N, change our contact names now please

You roll your eyes at Rio’s antics but do as you’re told, not wanting to dissapoint Agatha; you still feel a bit guilty for having sex with Rio this morning.

—

Over the next few days, you find yourself texting with them more and more. The conversations flow easily—Agatha constantly checking in on you, always asking if you’ve eaten or if you’re doing alright. It’s sweet, in a way you didn’t expect, but it’s comforting. Rio, on the other hand, can’t resist sending her terrible dad jokes, which, despite your best efforts, always make you laugh.

MILFS Anonymous

~ 15:48

Rio: What do you call a group of crows that stick together?

You: Oh God, please stop

Agatha: Seriously. You’re not funny

Rio: VelCrows :)))

Agatha: Sometimes I wonder how I fell in love with you

Rio: It’s because I fuck you like there’s no tomorrow ;)

~ 21:17

Agatha: *click to open image*

Agatha: Huh, you don’t look like you’re doing much fucking to me

You drop your phone with a loud clatter. You were not expecting to see a picture of a Rio naked and tied to the bed with a vibrator pressed against her clit and by the looks of it, she had been like that for some time. You spend the rest of your evening fucking yourself to that image. Each time you think you’re done and can't cum any more, the image pops into your mind again, and you start to imagine all the things they would do if you were with them, and before you know it, your hand is back between your legs.

—

Thanksgiving break arrives faster than expected, and the familiar comfort of your parents' home feels like a welcome change from the chaos of college life. You arrive in the early afternoon, greeted by the warm aroma of roasted turkey and spiced pies wafting from the kitchen. It’s a little odd being home after everything that’s happened with Rio and Agatha, knowing they live just next door. You wonder if you’ll see them during your visit.

It turns out you don’t have to wonder for long.

A knock at the front door pulls you from your thoughts, and your dad answers with a cheerful, “Agatha! Rio! Happy Thanksgiving!”

Your stomach flips.

You appear in the hallway just in time to see them stepping inside, Agatha holding a neatly wrapped gift basket and Rio carrying what looks like a bottle of wine. They’re dressed casually but still look effortlessly gorgeous; Rio is dressed in a breezy striped blue shirt that’s half tucked into her jeans. The loose fit of the shirt somehow adds to her charm, her confident movements making it clear she’s completely at ease. Agatha, on the other hand, is the picture of sophistication, her fitted blazer in a warm mustard hue paired with a turtleneck and slacks giving her a commanding presence that turns heads—even in such a casual setting.

“We just wanted to drop this off,” Agatha says, her usual polished tone soft and warm. “A little something for the holiday.”

“Oh, nonsense, you’re not just dropping it off,” your mom insists, appearing behind your dad. “You’re staying for dinner. It’s the least we can do after everything you did for this one when they got locked out in the rain.”

Your heart nearly stops. You glance at Agatha, who meets your wide-eyed look with a calm, knowing smile.

“Really, it wasn’t any trouble,” Agatha says smoothly, a teasing lilt in her voice. “I mean, we could’ve just let them in with the spare key you gave us, but... well, we thought they might prefer a warm bed and some company at ours instead.”

Your cheeks burn as Rio chimes in, her grin bordering on wicked. “And they didn’t seem to mind one bit.”

Your parents laugh, completely oblivious to the deeper meaning behind the exchange, but you feel like you’re about to combust. Agatha and Rio both throw you brief, pointed glances before following your mom into the dining room, leaving you standing there trying to steady your racing heart.

—

Dinner starts off innocently enough, but the air feels charged in a way you can’t quite explain. You’re hyper-aware of Rio sitting across from you and Agatha beside you, their presence consuming all your focus.

Rio’s long fingers wrap elegantly around her wine glass as she listens to your dad talk, but her gaze keeps drifting to you, her lips curving into a faint smirk every time your eyes meet. Meanwhile, Agatha takes every opportunity to lean close, brushing her arm against yours under the guise of reaching for the breadbasket or whispering a sly comment in your ear that sends a jolt of heat straight to your core.

“You look a little flushed, sweetheart,” Agatha purrs at one point, her tone dripping with amusement. “You okay?”

You nod quickly, biting your lip to keep from saying something that would give you away. Rio catches the exchange and arches an eyebrow, her gaze flickering between the two of you knowingly.

It only gets worse as the meal progresses. Rio’s foot grazes yours under the table, lingering just long enough to send a thrill up your spine.

When Agatha pours herself another glass of wine, she tilts the bottle toward you with a raised brow, silently asking if you’d like more. You nod, not trusting your voice. As she leans over to fill your glass, her lips brush your ear so faintly it feels like a whisper of air. “Behave, sweetheart,” she murmurs, her voice so low and intimate that a shiver runs down your spine.

You clench your thighs and glance up at her wide-eyed, but she only pulls back with that same subtle smile, her expression calm and unreadable.

You do your best to stay composed, but your mind is spinning. Every touch, every look, and every smirk makes it harder to focus on anything else.

Then, as if the universe wants to test your resolve further, Agatha “accidentally” spills a bit of wine on her sweater.

“Oh, shoot,” she says, dabbing at the stain with her napkin.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” your mom says quickly. “Y/N, show Agatha where the bathroom is, and grab her a clean top from the laundry room, will you?”

You nod, your pulse quickening as you rise from the table. Agatha follows you down the hall, her calm exterior betraying nothing, but you can feel the tension radiating off her like heat. You scurry off to grab Agatha a clean top and quickly show her to the bathroom.

The moment you’re alone in the room, she closes the door behind you with a soft click and turns to face you, her expression shifting from composed to utterly predatory.

“Finally,” she murmurs, stepping closer, her voice low and thick with desire. “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you all evening?”

Your breath catches as she backs you against the counter, her hands finding your waist and pulling you flush against her. Her lips are on yours before you can respond, the kiss hungry and demanding, igniting a fire in your chest that spreads through your entire body.

“Agatha, we—” you start to protest, your voice a shaky whisper, but she silences you with another kiss, her hands sliding up your sides to cup your face.

“They’re none the wiser,” she murmurs against your lips, her voice sending shivers down your spine. “Now, let me have you for just a moment.”

Before you can respond, Agatha’s hands drift lower, deftly removing anything on your bottom half that will get in the way of her goal and letting the fabric fall to the tiled floor. Her gaze darkens as she sinks to her knees in front of you, her palms sliding down your thighs, leaving trails of heat in their wake.

Her eyes flick up to meet yours, full of lust and mischief, as she leans in closer. “Dripping everywhere,” she murmurs, her voice husky and teasing, her lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “Just like the first time we were in a bathroom together. Seems I have a knack for this, don’t I?”

Your heart pounds in your chest as her words hang in the air, her presence between your legs sending a surge of electricity through you.

It might be Thanksgiving, but your body feels like the Fourth of July when she drags her tongue from your entrance to your clit. She sucks it into her mouth and flicks lightly with the tip of her tongue before releasing it and going back to push her tongue inside you. The woman is on a mission and wastes no time in bringing you close to your climax in record time.

Her hand clamps over your mouth, not willing to risk you letting the whole street know that you’re going to cum, and then, with a final flick of her tongue, you’re glad she did because the orgasm hits you like a fucking 18-wheeler truck, your legs start to shake, and you have to grip on to the sink to stop yourself from collapsing.

Your breathing comes in ragged gasps as the world tilts back into focus, your body still trembling from the intensity of what just happened. Agatha stands, her movements unhurried and precise as she grabs a tissue and delicately wipes the corner of her mouth, her expression one of calm satisfaction.

"Still as sweet as I remember," she murmurs, her voice low and teasing as she crumples the tissue and tosses it into the small trash can by the sink.

You blink at her, still clinging to the edge of the sink for balance, your legs shaky and your mind a hazy blur of aftershocks. Agatha’s hands are steady as she helps you straighten your clothes, her touch lingering just a moment too long, her fingers grazing the small of your back before she steps away.

She smooths the fresh top you fetched for her, giving herself a quick once-over in the mirror. Perfectly put together, not a single hair out of place. You can’t help but marvel at her composure, especially when you feel like you’ve just been turned inside out.

Agatha turns back to you, a soft, almost maternal smile on her lips as she gives your ass a light pat. “Go on, darling,” she says, her tone playful but firm. “Head back out there before they start to wonder. I’ll be right behind you.”

You swallow hard, willing your legs to cooperate, and make your way back to the dining room, still trying to regain your composure.

The two of you return to the dining room during dessert, the scent of sweet pies and coffee wafting in the air. Agatha looks completely composed now, her clean top fitting snugly as she takes her seat next to you. She even stops for a moment to dab a napkin at the corner of her mouth—the perfect picture of elegance considering she was wiping away the last remnants of your cum. You, however, can feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you settle down, trying not to meet anyone’s gaze too directly.

From the other side of the table, Rio watches the two of you with a smirk that’s far too knowing for comfort. She raises her glass in a small toast, the corner of her lips quirking in amusement before she takes a slow sip.

“So,” she says casually, her tone light but her eyes sparkling with mischief, “did the mess get sorted out?”

Agatha doesn’t miss a beat, shooting her a calm, collected smile. “All taken care of. They were very helpful.” She says, draping an arm around the back of your chair.

Your mother beams, none the wiser. “Well, that’s sweet. Always good to know you’ve got a helping hand.”

Rio stifles a laugh behind her hand, her eyes meeting yours briefly. The heat simmering beneath your skin refuses to let up, and you can only hope that dessert wraps up soon—before someone else catches on.

-----

"we could’ve just let them in with the spare key"

*humming* it was Agatha all along

⚠️Remember⚠️validation saves lives (this fic dies when I believe nobody likes it anymore because I have imposter syndrome)

READ PART 4

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taglist: @aceday @valarmorghuli @ctrlamira @lezbean-with-a-side-of-dilfs @noturlondonboy @darkangelchronicles @4theluvofsapphos

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rinhaler · 9 months ago

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aaaaa my brother is putting my new desk chair up for me tomorrow I’m so happyyyyyy 🥹🥹

#🧚🏽‍♀️ — luxe chit chat #good morning ppl <3 #i feel like I’ve just hit the biggest creative block idk why #gonna move some stuff from my old blog over here soon so #it’s something yk #I do have fic ideas I’m just a bit overwhelmed rn #anyway hope ur all good :3 #I’m meeting up with my bestie today we r gonna get food #n gonna see if I can find any cute decorations for my desk #excitedddddd I hope I get some cute stuff

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mimiiiiiiiiisstuff · 10 days ago

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"Waking Up in Vegas"

Prologue, Chapter one:, Chapter 2,Chapter 3, Chapter 4:

ok guys! we're back and reader's hot girl summer has started! Sorry I was gonna put this chapter out earlier today but i've just been so busy today plus i'm cooking up a 3rd part for "older" I got my period AND i have a math test and english essay coming up. If some parts don't make sense, its on purpose. Reader is disoriented and drunk half the time, the days blur together for her. Lmk what yall think of readers hot girl summer and what you want/think will happen in the next chapter .Sorry for any mistakes! Comments, reblogs and ASKS make my dayyyy and encourage me.

Saint-Tropez wasn’t just a place, it was a playground, a haven for those who didn’t care about consequences or anyone else’s rules.

And you? Well, you were done with rules.

For the last two weeks, you’d been living like this, untouchable, free, and completely lying to your family.

You had told Bruce you were staying with Ariel and her father, which was true, for the first two days anyway.

Ariel's father is a busy man, he couldn't take 2 and a half months off work to babysit two 16 year olds who would do what they wanted anyway. As soon as he left, Ariel began calling your two other close friends, Claire and Rory. Together, all four of you were unstoppable at school though it was an unspoken rule that you and Ariel were the dynamic duo. All four of you stayed in Ariel's ocean front villa, relaxing, tanning, and just getting settled.

God, let's not even start on how drastically everything changed while you were at boarding school and the family found out Tiffany's true colors. They were all so.....protective now. You got calls everyday, from each of your 'siblings' separately, dozens of texts asking you what you ate, who you were with, and what you were doing. You didn't entertain them. The only person you replied to was Bruce, and that's only because you knew if he wanted to, he could call off this whole trip.

You didn't answer Tim's random, vague questions like, "Who's that on your story? Do you know them? Are you sure they're safe to be with?" He was asking about a simple sunset dinner picture you posted with Ariel, so you blocked him. He's way too nosy.

You didn't reply to the groupchat the girls, Barbra, Steph, and Cass added you in called "The girls!!"

What a creative name!

You left after you saw 'Tiffany was removed from this conversation'. Maybe you were being petty but they obviously had this chat before and didn't bother to add you to it before Tiffany was exposed. It was your turn to ignore them.

You definitely didn't reply to Damian's outright threatening messages that he sent almost every other day, they all sounded something along the lines of "You will regret this. You cannot simply leave and run away from your family. Come home or else."

He's such a strange little boy, he spoke and acted like an angry Victorian prince. He texted you like you were close before, like it wasn't him who pushed you away. You were coming back in two months and yet he acted like ran away and changed your name.

Jason, Bruce, and Dick were the most consistent and annoying, in that order exactly.

Jason texted you every morning at 8 and every night 11, like clockwork. His texts were daily updates what he was planning on doing that day, asking you the same, and reminding you that he's sorry and that he loves you. It tugged at your heart not to answer him, and sometimes, you gave in and you could feel the joy in his response when you replied. You and Jason's conversations went like this, on the odd occasion you replied,

"Good morning." - Jason

"How are you? No trouble in paradise I hope."- Jason

"My days gonna be pretty dull today, nothing much except patrol. Might go to that bookstore you used to like." - Jason

Your cold heart would melt when he said things like that and you would reply,

"awww! jason, thats so sweet." and follow with "I'm good!! how bout you??? staying out of trouble?"

Jason was your softest spot and he knew it.

Bruce texted you three times a day. Morning, afternoon, and evening. His messages were dry and authorative, demanding answers. He wanted to know who you were with, what you were doing, if you left the house, and if you were okay. The fatherly care and authority isn't something your used to, it was strange. You weren't sure if you felt cared for or suffocated. You answered Bruce once a day, your tone straight to the point, answering only what he asked, nothing more.

Dick is by far the worst. He texted you constantly, as if trying to make up for 11 years of not texting you at all. He texted you when he woke up, when he slept, when he ate, what he ate, and sent you pictures of everything. Once he sent you a picture of a tiny bird saying it reminded him of you. You nearly blocked him after that, the only reason you didn't was because you liked how desperate he was. Not long ago, it was you spamming him like that. Plus he can be funny most of the time. You don't even want to think of the constant selfies he sent. You only ever replied once.

Dick sent a selfie of him hanging with some of the Titans, you forgot why or what he said along with it, but you do remember seeing Connor Kent shirtless in the background. You giggled and showed Ariel how hot he is. You replied to Dick almost instantly hearting the picture, screen shotting it, and drawing a heart around Connor saying something like, "WHO DAT IN THE BACK????" and "Tell superboy to hmu".

Dick was not happy about that, that was the last group selfie he ever sent. He got more frequent with his texts after that. He must've snitched to Jason because not even five minutes after you got a text from him.

"Remember what I said. No boys, i'll kick his ass." - Jason

You ignored him of course.

The sun beat down in the south of France, but you were far from concerned with the blistering heat. Not when there was a private yacht at your disposal, a poolside filled with strangers and familiar faces alike, and the soundtrack of Drake keeping your pulse racing. You felt the vibration of your phone against your palm for the third time in ten minutes. Another text from Bruce. He was becoming more insistent you answer him the longer you were gone. It's only been two weeks! Another "where are you?" or "be careful." As if you were gonna listen. Or reply to him.

Bruce. The man who'd ignored you for the better part of your life, suddenly acting like a worried father because Tiffany, the perfect sister, had betrayed them all. Tiffany, the adopted daughter who had somehow replaced you in their world. Now, she was the enemy, the traitor, the spy, and she was gone. That meant you had all the freedom you could ever want.

The more you thought about Tiffany the angrier you got. She had everything. How many summers has she spent on yatchs partying? How many times has she blown thousands of Bruce's dollars? Why were you forgiving them so easily? Why were you even listening to him?

Just because he apologized and said he'd change?

Why should you forgive Jason so easily and respect his rules, he ignored you for years and replaced you with Tiffany. The more you drank, the more you thought and the angrier you got. Who do they think they are? You've always been too nice, too obedient, and they're still taking advantage of it. You'd show them, show them what its like to be ignored and forgotten and made fun of.

For the next two months, you were going to ignore them. Bruce and jason included. You've been too nice, too good these two weeks, your friends were begging to party but you didn't want to, you were scared of disappointing them.

You were so angry nothing changed in you that you finally caved and decided to do what Claire and Rory were doing, give your phone to a worker here and have them turn the location on and send updates to Bruce. You still used the same icloud so you could read their messages and make sure they weren't suspicous.

He'd think you were always at the villa or just going into town, they won't know what hit them.

You turn to Ariel and grin, "I'm free. What are we doing tonight?" You were done obeying their rules and living your life for them. Who knows when you'd be alone in Europe with your best friends again.

Ariel hopped off her chair and squealed, her dark skin glowing from the sun, she grabbed you and twirled you around, your giggles echoing through the yacht and drawing Claire and Rory's attention.

Ariel grinned and explained to Rory and Claire, "Little Miss good girl finally came to her senses and went M.I.A with her dad. Now we can finally party! Hot girl summer starts now."

All three girls start squealing and join Ariel in her celebration.

You rolled your eyes feeling guilty, "I told you, you could've gone without me!"

Ariel wrapped her arm around you, "Nonsense, it's not a party without you. Now, come on we gotta go shopping if we're going out tonight. It's lucky that we both have daddy's black cards. It's really lucky that they have Dior, Hermes, and YSL down the street."

You weren't sure how much you spent and the drinks kept you from feeling guilty. Bruce is like, a bajilionaire, what you spent won't make a dent.

Somehow, you ended up on an even bigger yacht filled with guys, in your brand new Dior bikini with a matching bag.

By the time night fell, the yacht was buzzing, the VIP lounge overrun by people who hadn’t even been invited. The bass was so loud you felt it in your bones. You didn’t care. You've never felt so alive.

Your new phone wasn't getting any messages except DMs, and the woman you hired confirming Bruce thought you were sound asleep in the villa.

You can practically taste the summer air as you step onto the deck of the boat, laughing with Ariel and your friends and the others you’ve met along the way. No one cares about where you’ve been, where you’re going, or who your family is.

As the DJ cranks up the volume, a cute guy with long blonde hair catches your eye. You wink at him and saunter over. This summer is all about freedom, and you’re ready for it. His hands are already on your waist, pulling you close, and suddenly you’re lost in the rhythm, spinning and laughing, his lips brushing against your ear.

The night wears on, you drink more, laugh louder, flirt harder. The yacht turns into a blur of lights, drinks, and music. As midnight rolls around, the party shows no signs of slowing. You could stay here forever, with no rules but your own.

But then it happens. You wake up in a completely different city.

London.

You’re sprawled on a plush couch in a ridiculously luxurious flat, a half-empty bottle of champagne next to you. The room smells like expensive perfume, and the decor is all sleek lines and minimalist chic. You sit up slowly, your head pounding from last night.

You sit up straighter, rubbing your eyes.You vaguely remember a private jet, but it’s all blurry. One moment, you were on the deck of the yacht, living it up, and the next, you're waking up in an entirely new country.

You look around the room in panic and spot Ariel sleeping on the couch and a random guy, butt naked on the floor next to her. You sigh in relief at Ariel being okay and the fact you weren't kidnapped.

There’s a knock at the room door, and when you answer, it's a random guy from last night, British accent, disheveled hair, wearing nothing but boxer shorts. He grins at you sheepishly. “Hey, you good?”

You, Ariel, the naked boy named Christian, and the Brit named Thomas, have breakfast and exchange stories of what you remember from last night. It was fun, but you and Ariel flew back to St. Tropez where a jealous Claire and a worried Rory were waiting.

Last night was fun, but it couldn't happen again. It was dangerous and if anything happened Bruce wouldn't know.

Except it did happen again, and again, all summer long.

The next weeks were a blur, Venice, Monaco, and Madrid, with stops in Dubai and Los Angeles along the way. Each city more vibrant and intoxicating than the last. Every place you went, you had the freedom to be whoever you wanted to be. There was always a fresh crop of people, and you reveled in not having to answer to anyone. No father, no brothers, no sisters, just you and your friends against the world.

You and Ariel lived your lives like you were gonna die tomorrow. You were unstoppable, no family, no rules, no responsibility. Your abilities weren't acting up at all, everything was perfect. Bruce and the family were off your back, being made to think you were at the villa all day.

The “No Boys Rule” was completely disregarded, though. It seemed that whenever you let your guard down for just a moment, you’d end up surrounded by someone new. Whether it was a guy from a club in Monaco or a guy you met on a private yacht in Venice, you were always finding someone new

Despite all the parties, the alcohol, and the private Instagram posts, and funny Tik Toks, there was still a growing sense that you weren’t living this life for you, you were living it for the rebellion, to spite Bruce.

It wasn’t just about freedom anymore. It was about finally being seen, even if that meant drifting away from everyone you once called family.

You only had one month left of absolute freedom, and you were gonna make the most of it. With Ariel, Rory, and Claire by your side, you partied in just about every city.

The final month of your wild European escapade had arrived, and things were only getting wilder.

The clock had no meaning anymore. Days and nights blended into each other as you danced from one city to the next, your world a whirlwind of music, champagne, and endless laughter. Ariel, Rory, and Claire had become your partners in crime, literally when you got arrested, but thats not important.

Each morning you woke up in a new place, groggy and confused, only to remember the night before—flashing lights, pounding beats, and the promise of more. Cannes, Monte Carlo, Paris, or Dubai, it didn’t matter. What mattered was the freedom you’d found in them, and in yourself. You were more than the neglected, ignored girl from Gotham; now, you were the life of the party.

there was always someone waiting to whisk you away to the next nightclub, the next gala, the next beach party where the world’s richest men tried to get your attention.

First, it was Paris. You could feel the eyes on you as soon as you entered the hotel lobby. The air smelled of expensive perfume, freshly polished marble, and the faintest trace of guilt, because in some corner of your mind, you could still hear Bruce’s voice echoing in your ears. But it quickly faded as the first private yacht rolled up to the dock. The deck was crowded with Parisian socialites and half-drunk billionaires, but it wasn’t about the crowd, it was about the feeling of being wanted. Being worshipped.

It was in Paris that you really started feeling the distance between you and the life you’d left behind. The champagne flowed easily, the laughter came effortlessly, but there was an ache you hadn’t anticipated. A pang that struck at the edges of your satisfaction, the kind you couldn’t drink away.

You thought about Bruce. His pleading words, his desperation, and how, for a moment, you almost felt sorry for him. But only for a moment. You couldn’t let him win. Couldn’t let them see that you’d needed them. Because that would mean giving up everything you had now, the freedom, the endless nights, the city hopping, the boys who adored you.

You let it all sink in, just for a second, how much control you had over them now. How much they wanted you back, how much they needed you back. It felt good, knowing that you could walk away and have them chase after you, like you used to chase them.

Maybe it was the brief, fleeting moments when you thought about Gotham, about Bruce, about your family, and how none of it felt real anymore. They’d played their games, ignored you, and now it was your turn.

Meanwhile, your phone was a constant buzz of messages. Tim had sent at least five texts, each one more urgent than the last. Jason called twice, his voice sharp and filled with that annoying overprotectiveness he just developed. And Bruce… well, Bruce sent you one long, pleading message, something about understanding, about giving him another chance, and answering his calls. You didn’t even bother reading it all. You didn’t need to. You didn’t care enough to respond.

You had no intention of being tied down by anyone, but when a French prince with dark, tousled hair and eyes that burned through your soul offered you a glass of champagne and a seat next to him, you took it.

You didn’t even have to look for him, he found you. He was the one with the perfect jawline, the one who could be a model if he wasn’t already a prince. His eyes, blue locked onto yours the second you entered the VIP area. A raised brow, a subtle smirk, and you knew that for tonight, he was yours.

You didn’t speak much. He didn’t ask questions, and that was the kind of energy you craved. A few words, some flirting, fleeting touches, and then you were in his Lambo, the leather seats smooth under your skin as the city sped by. He went as fast as you wanted, loving the thrill and impressed look in your eyes.

The thrill was intoxicating, the feeling of being someone else, someone free. The kind of person who didn’t have to answer to anyone. A few hours later, you were standing on a balcony, watching the sunrise, your lips tingling from the kiss he’d stolen.

Your mind was a haze of laughter and the aftertaste of expensive whiskey. The view of the French Riviera was far too beautiful to appreciate right now, and your thoughts wandered back to Gotham, to the family you’d abandoned, the ones who had never cared for you.

But as the days wore on, it was harder to ignore the hollow feeling creeping in. The message from Dick, the one where he told you that he loved you, stayed in your mind longer than it should have. You told yourself it didn’t matter. You didn’t owe him anything. But you couldn’t help but wonder, just for a second, what it would have been like if things were different.

You turned away from those thoughts quickly. You couldn’t afford to get attached. Not now. Not when you were on the verge of something bigger. The freedom you had now was everything you wanted. No one could take that from you.

You couldn’t let them control you. You wouldn’t let them.

You and Ariel were inseparable now, pulling Claire and Rory into your whirlwind of recklessness. You all had your roles, Ariel was the carefree partier, Claire the quiet one who always managed to keep ya'll out of trouble, and Rory was the one always ready with a camera and a new Tik Tok idea. You were the star, the one they all gravitated toward.

Each day was a new city, a new set of challenges, a new set of eyes who wanted to be close to you. You knew the game, knew how to play it. You knew how to keep them guessing, how to make them want you more.

So, you danced. You partied. You lived in the moment and let your life spiral further from Gotham’s grasp.

From there, it was off to the next city.

Las Vegas; Sin City, there was no place like it. You couldn’t even remember how you got there, your mind fuzzy with a mix of adrenaline and whatever was in that last glass of tequila. The strip was lit up like daylight, people everywhere, the air thick with smoke and the sound of slot machines ringing through the night.

You woke up in a penthouse suite that could have been mistaken for an entire floor of the Bellagio, the morning sunlight filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. And there he was, a prince. The same French prince, draped in a robe embroidered with gold thread, a fresh glass of mimosas on the table beside him. He was smirking, lounging on the couch like this was all part of his daily routine. You couldn’t even remember how you got to the suite. What had happened between the bar and now? You didn’t care.

He didn’t seem to care either, his hand casually tracing the rim of his glass, his eyes never leaving you. You laughed, feeling the surrealness of it all wash over you, the weight of your last 48 hours in Ibiza and Monaco still fresh on your skin. One minute, you were dancing at a celebrity’s secret after-party in Monaco, and the next, you were here, on the other side of the world with some mysterious prince who had probably already forgotten your name.

The rest of the night was spent taking private jet rides to exclusive clubs, partying with people whose names you couldn’t even pronounce, and waking up to the flashing lights of a casino floor. Vegas was the kind of place where everything felt fake, but that didn’t matter. You really are Brucie Wayne's daughter.

Next stop, Ibiza, the heart of Europe’s clubbing scene. Ariel and you slipped into the club, stepping past the velvet ropes like it was second nature. The security guard practically bowed as you walked by. The crowd parted for you, the clinking of champagne glasses and the hum of expensive conversations filling the air.

This was where you belonged. The heat of the island, the night that stretched into forever. You and Ariel danced on top of the table at Pacha, popping bottles like they were nothing, the music vibrating in your bones, the crowd chanting your name like you were the star of the show. It was your second night there, and you had already met a Spanish duke who was more interested in buying you a yacht than actually getting to know you. There was white powder everywhere, tempting you to try but you didn't give in. Who knows what could be in it. Your friends and most people at the club didn't share the same idea.

You just wanted to enjoy the view and keep the party going but you were worried, maybe this was too much.

“we’ve got to live for the moment,” Ariel grinned, taking a shot of something that made her eyes water. “Who cares if we’re in a foreign country surrounded by dangerous people? It’s the best kind of chaos. When else are we gonna do this?”

Somehow you ended up on a private yacht again, this time surrounded by Ibiza’s elite. You weren’t sure how many shots of tequila you’d had, but you knew that the man at your side had given you a diamond bracelet to match your dress. You accepted with a grin asking him to put it on for you, your hair wild, your makeup smudged from hours of dancing, but it didn’t matter. You were untouchable.

It was getting close to 3 AM, and the music hadn’t stopped. The drinks kept flowing, and the Duke’s yacht you somehow ended up on was finally leaving the dock. You couldn’t remember how you ended up on the boat, but you were there now, floating on a million-dollar boat with peopl you’d only seen on TV. One of the men from the night before was already making eye contact, his glass of sangria in hand.

It was hard to be shy in a setting like this. Rory, who’d never been afraid of attention, was deep in conversation with a couple of supermodels who were likely on their third or fourth drink. Claire was wrapped up in a flirtation with the duke who owned this yacht, and Arie was in her own world, laughing with a group of guys who were definitely not short on cash.

The next morning, you woke up on the yacht, the sun blazing over the Mediterranean. You stretched lazily, your body still buzzing from the night before, and found yourself face-to-face with the man from last night.

He smirked, “Care for another round?” he asked, his accent thick, the sound of the waves crashing against the boat providing an oddly peaceful background.

You laughed and agreed. It was all so easy, this life. This endless, carefree abandon. No rules, no family to answer to, no obligations. It was just you, your friends, and a bunch of gorgeous strangers who only saw you for the party girl you had become. And for now, that was enough.

Next, Monaco, the grandest of them all. You didn’t just go to Monaco, you ruled it. You, Ariel, Claire and Rory crashing the most exclusive gala in the world; rich industrialists, F1 drivers ,tech moguls, the faces that appeared on the front of every magazine. But to you, it was just another game to play. Every conversation was a carefully curated performance, everyone vying for your attention, for your approval.

The days blurred together. Each city more beautiful, each party more decadent than the last. Monaco was wild, filled with the world’s elite and their very bored children. The private yacht parties were nothing short of a movie set, jet skis, champagne, drugs, and the sun beating down relentlessly. The thrill of it all never left, and every night you found a new billionaire, actor, or race car driver to distract you. It wasn’t about them, not really, it was about keeping the power in your hands, it was about feeling good. Taking away the pain that came with your powers, fortunately, men were jumping into your bed.

You didn’t even have to try. One wink, one smile, and suddenly you were in a Bentley, whisked away to a private after-party in a hidden corner of Monaco’s coastline. The prince of some oil-rich kingdom was at your side, and the night was long, filled with laughter and stolen kisses under the stars. You didn’t care what his name was, where he came from, or who he was, he was just another prince who could buy you anything you wanted.

You met guy, almost as rich as Bruce, who you beat at poker, he was more than happy to throw a yacht party in your honor. The invitation was clear: “Come party with us. No rules. No limits.”

Ariel had already decided to make a game of seeing how many men she could flirt before sunset, while Rory was doing her usual thing, charming people with her wit. You, on the other hand, had become the center of attention, as if the whole event was designed around you. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a conversation that didn’t involve someone trying to buy you a drink, or a private island.

As the weeks stretched on, you could barely keep track of all the cities you had visited. You spent one night in Berlin, dancing until dawn in one of the city’s most infamous clubs. The next, you were in Milan, draped in designer clothing and laughing with the most influential fashion people in the world. Every day felt like a new chapter, filled with new people, new parties, and a new sense of power.

It was intoxicating. Everyone loved you here, you were the life of every party. You had so many friends, you'd never be alone again.

There was something so exhilarating about being surrounded by people who knew your last name, who were used to rubbing elbows with people like Bruce Wayne, but didn’t realize you were his daughter.

You felt it in your bones now, the distance between you and Gotham was growing wider. The weight of the past, the guilt that had once threatened to crush you, was nothing more than a distant memory. Each city, each new face, each new party was a reminder that you didn’t need them. You didn’t need anyone.

But deep down, something shifted. Maybe it was the late-night conversations with Ariel on the balcony of a villa in Santorini, the wine flowing freely as you discussed the future, her dreams, your dreams, how you’d never go back to the way things were. Maybe it was the quiet moments alone on the edge of some private infinity pool, staring out at a horizon that seemed endless and just… empty.

You didn’t know when you started to feel it, but you knew one thing for sure: when you finally did come back to Gotham, you weren’t going to be the same person who had left.

The Final Stop, St. Tropez. You did a full circle. Your last hurrah before you returned home, or where your family assumed you were all this time. The private beach parties, the yachts that lined the harbor, the whispers of billionaires in their private jets. You danced in the sand, surrounded by flashes from cameras and jealous glares from women who had no idea who you were, but wanted to be you all the same.

A private villa awaited you, and there, amidst the most extravagant décor, you found yourself facing yet another prince, yet another man eager to claim you as his own.

You turned to find a prince—probably from denmark—standing next to you. You immediately recognized his face from magazines. He was the one who was always pictured at galas with his equally famous family. He was beautiful, dark-haired and dangerous, with a body like chiseled stone. But the only thing you could think about was how long it would take before you got bored of him, before you moved on to the next.

His thick accented voice cut through your thoughts, "Well, if it isn't the infamous party girl." He smirked eyeing you up and down.

"Oh, so you've heard of me" You said smiling. You had no idea how he knew you, all your socials were private and theres no way you had mutual friends. You froze for a second, just how far has your reputation proceeded you, did Bruce hear?

You brushed the thought away as soon as it came, Bruce didn't exist. Not tonight, your last actual night of freedom. Not when you were boarding the flight to gotham after tomorrow.

"Hard not to. You've been everywhere. Paris, London, Ibiza, Monaco, Dubai, Vegas. You're practically the princess of Europe." He grinned leaning closer.

After two months you were finally starting to feel the rush of it all catching up to you. But for now? Who cared? You were a 16-year-old filled with confidence, chaos, and fun. The world was yours, and there was no one who could stop you, least of all, your father, who were still clueless about your whereabouts and secretly obsessing over your every move. You were too busy living in the moment to care about that.

You were officially the European Party Girl, the one everyone wanted to be friends with, the one they all wanted to take selfies with.

Ariel once called you a prince magnet, she wasn't wrong. You woke up next to him the next morning, his strong arms around your waist.

When you went back to Gotham, you weren’t just going to show up. You were going to treat them like they treated you all these years, you were going to laugh in their faces, ignore them like they ignored you.

As you and Ariel spent your last night together packing, you couldn't help but smile. In these two months with her, you lived more than you had in your entire life.

When you boarded the plane back to Gotham, you were different. You were someone new, someone who had tasted freedom and wasn’t sure if she could ever go back. The Waynes had no idea what was coming for them, but you were ready. The game had shifted, and you were about to play it all the way to the end.

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themultifanshipper · 6 months ago

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i will pay GOOD MONEY to read this bro

https://www.tumblr.com/themultifanshipper/756785500347580416/4-way-eiffel-tower

You hadn't been in the paddock for several months, being too busy with your career, and the drivers were starting to get antsy about your return.

But who would be good enough to have a go at you was anybody's guess as the Hungarian Grand Prix weekend got underway.

Warnings: Kinda paddock bunny vibes, but reader more in control, smut, brief stuff with Lando and Charles, slightly creepy/predatory behaviour (but everything is consensual), hand job, oral, PinV, PinA, anal, like 3 lines of dirty talk, aftercare, eeeeh idk what else

Part 1 of One of The Boys

Max was the first to spot you on Friday morning, you were chatting with some of the formula 3 drivers who were getting ready for their practice session.

He wrapped you in a big hug from behind and lifted you up.

“I know it's been a while but these guys are a bit young for you aren't they?” he said teasingly and you slapped his arm, giggling as he put you down.

“Don’t worry, I already have my hands full with you lot. They'll get their turn if they get into formula 1”

You walked with him on his way towards the redbull hospitality.

“Yeah?” he smirked “Speaking of, what's my prize going to be when I inevitably win on Sunday?”

You laughed at him.

“Given how your car's been performing lately I'm not sure your cockiness is justified”

He gasped and put a hand on his chest in mock offense.

“How dare you doubt my talents?”

“It's not 2023 anymore Max, you can't have me all to yourself. You need to learn to share…” you smiled at him devilishly “And for your information, I won't be giving a prize to the winner anyway, so it's anyone's game”

You winked conspiratorially and sauntered off leaving Max on his own to wonder what on earth you meant by that.

The next person you saw was Lando, that very afternoon. And word had obviously traveled fast.

“A little birdy told me you weren't interested in podium sitters this weekend…” he hooked his arm over your shoulder and pressed a kiss to you cheek in greeting “So what's a man gotta do around here to get you to himself?”

He deepened his voice seductively , but it just served to make you laugh at him, given the number of times you'd heard high pitched whines come out of his mouth during your… celebratory activities.

“Well, hello to you too Lando, how was your week?” you teased and he almost looked guilty for a second, before grinning and hugging you tight.

“I missed you in Miami, so I think you owe me something for my first win, no?” he smirked and walked you over to a secluded corner between two garages.

You rolled your eyes at him, amused by his impatience.

He crowded you against the wall and your hands went to pull him closer by his belt loops, so his hips were flush against yours. He gasped and his hips bucked involuntarily at the action.

You laughed “Come here you horndog” and he crashed his lips to yours in a desperate, messy kiss. His lips came to part yours immediately. He hadn't tasted you for so long it took him seconds to get hard.

Your hand made it inside his pants and he whined and rutted against your hand as his head went to the crook of your neck. He was breathing hard and you could almost feel him trembling in your hold.

This was going to be the quickest handjob of your life.

And he never did manage to ask about Sunday's prize.

…

A few hours later, in the car park, you were cornered by none other than Charles Leclerc.

“Hello” He murmured in your ear and you jumped at the sudden presence behind you.

You turned around quickly and he pressed you against your car to hug you.

“Hello Charles, how are you?” you said while Charles tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Horny” he answered immediately with a smile.

You laughed and he put his hands either side of you, caging you in.

“I can wait until I win on Sunday of course, but I've been told you have something else in mind”

He raised an eyebrow in question and you sighed.

“I'm not telling you what it is Charles”

He nodded solemnly “In that case…” he swiftly opened the back door of your car and pushed you inside, climbed in and closed it behind him.

“I think you owe me a little something for my Home win in Monaco, don't you think?” He wiggled his eyebrows but you just scoffed. “Come on princess, I want to taste you. It's been so long” he whined.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. Well if you weren't going to be doing any work… might as well enjoy a treat for once.

You smirked at him and he grinned, spreading your legs and lifting your dress…

This was going to be a long weekend.

You managed to mostly avoid the drivers’ advances on Saturday, them being pretty busy with prep and qualifying and sticking around the feeder series drivers.

You hadn't even checked the group chat you'd been added to, you assumed it would just be full of questions about Sunday so you steered clear. Your plans would be revealed soon enough.

Sunday morning you arrived bright and early, catching Carlos on your way in and told him to spread the word with the others:

To shake things up a bit, and to celebrate you returning from your lengthy leave of absence, you would be rewarding the top 3 fastest laps of the race, regardless of the placement in the standings.

As you watched the race unfold you were getting more and more excited. The fastest laps were getting passed around like a football, and you were looking forward to potentially getting to have some fresh blood.

And you were right. The fresh blood came in the form of Logan Sargeant. You hadn't been able to spend a night with him yet, him never having gotten a podium.

After the race you sent a message in the group chat:

‘Congratulations to George, Logan and Max! (And Oscar of course 😘)

The three of you are welcome to stop by my hotel room (306 at the hilton, Lando don't you dare) and you need to decide between yourselves about the order etc etc… I'll be waiting ;)’

After a quick shower and a quick meal you lay on your bed and checked your messages.

There was just one from George.

‘we'll be there at 7:30’

Oh…

They were all coming together. (pun intended)

Interesting…

You imagined what it would be like. Would they take turns with you? George or Max showing Logan how to handle you. Fucking you into the mattress while he sat in the chair and watched, waiting for his turn.

Or maybe two of them would fill you up while the other ran his hands and mouth all over your body.

Would any of them be into touching each other? You knew Max and George were closer than what they revealed to the public, and that they had hooked up, but would you get to see it?

You imagined what Logan could be like… Was he inexperienced? Did he fuck like a pro?

All these questions were swirling around your mind when a knock at the door interrupted you. A spark of arousal shot through you and you hurried to go and open it.

Max was leaning against the frame, George stood behind him, smirking, and Logan was leaning against the opposite wall, looking cool as a cucumber as his eyes roamed your figure.

“Come on in boys” you said cheerfully, stepping aside to let them through before closing the door and sitting yourself on the bed in front of them.

“So what’s the plan, Max?” you said mischievously “You going to show these guys how it's done? Or is George going to come and claim his prize for Austria?”

George chuckled.

“Actually, we're going to fill you up.”

You frowned at him in question. “Fill me up?”

“You've got 3 holes for a reason, right?”

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.

“Fuck, okay…”

You found yourself bent over the bed, Max's mouth on your cunt and his fingers in your ass, stretching you out for him.

George's cock was in your mouth, and your hand was wrapped around Logan, pumping him at a leisurely pace.

Once you had come from Max's expert fingers and mouth, he deemed you ready and you were repositioned to their liking.

You straddled Logan, Max behind you, and George in front of you.

Pulling Logan into a sloppy kiss, you sank down on him slowly. Your heat enveloped him and he moaned into your mouth as you ground your hips down on him.

You felt Max's presence behind you and he pushed you and Logan to lay down. He positioned himself at your entrance and stroked your flesh tenderly.

“You ready, baby?”

You nodded and he wasted no time pushing the tip in.

You moaned, he was pretty big, and Logan was already filling you up nicely.

He pushed in slowly, and with every inch your moans increased in pitch.

Logan could feel you fluttering around him and it was driving him crazy, choosing to distract himself, and you, by sucking marks into your neck.

Once Max was fully inside, George came forward and stroked your cheek.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

You felt so full you didn't quite know how to respond, overwhelmed by the feeling of the two men inside you.

But when they started moving it was a whole different ball park.

The drag of two cocks against your walls was sending shocks of pleasure throughout your body, it was indescribable.

They didn't have the same rhythm so sometimes one pushed in while the other dragged out, but when both of them pushed in together you swore loudly as they nudged every single one of your sweet spots.

George wrapped a hand in your hair and you looked up at him, already fucked out of your mind.

“Mind if I use your mouth, love?”

He asked with a sweet smile.

You grinned at him and stuck your tongue out.

“Good girl”

Being used by 3 of the fittest men on the planet was exhausting, but incredibly rewarding, as you felt your orgasm creep up on you.

You moaned around George and he pulled out to let you breathe.

Max piped up.

“You getting close, baby?”

You whined out a yes before grabbing George's hips and shoving your mouth back on him, the weight of his cock a grounding presence to counter the white hot pleasure coursing through your body.

“Good, because we're close too, we're going to fill you up. Right guys?”

George hummed and stroked your tear stained cheeks. “And you're going to be a good girl and swallow it all, yes?”

You hummed around him, and then Logan spoke for the first time since he'd walked in the room.

“Gonna fill this sweet pussy full of my cum, baby. You like being full of cum? You like being used like a slut by your friends?”

The shock of his voice in your ear sent a shockwave through you and you came on the spot, creaming around Logan and spasming around Max. They both came inside you with a groan after a couple of rough thrusts and stayed there while you came down.

George wasn't far behind and you swallowed all of him as his come filled your mouth.

The aftercare was amazing. George and Logan accompanied you in the shower, one washing your hair while the other scrubbed your body clean of sweat and leaked come.

Max changed the sheets (he called room service for clean ones) and then went in the shower once you were done.

You went to sleep with the three of them huddled around you, their hands wandering over your flesh affectionately.

You always took care of your boys, and they always took care of you.

#my thots #george thots #max thots #logan thots #george russell #george russell smut #george russell x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x reader #logan sargeant #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant smut #f1 #formula 1 #ask #request #one of the boys

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